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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226096">Admission</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synchron/pseuds/Synchron'>Synchron</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All Things Evette [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And Credo stares blankly into the distance, Crack Treated Seriously, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Ficlet, Nero is a meanie bo beanie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:55:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>491</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synchron/pseuds/Synchron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Normally, she’d chatter, asking question after question with no direction, no real flow in conversation, but on this bright afternoon, picturesque and idyllic, she sighs, forlorn.</p><p>And keeps sighing. Louder and more dramatic until, with a light roll of his eyes Nero finally picks up her obvious cues and asks her what’s wrong.</p><p>“I think I’m in love.” She announces, voice muffled by her own arms.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Credo (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All Things Evette [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Admission</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>And one more for the "cross-posting from tumblr" pile. I forgot I had this one lying around. 😭 It wasn't even in my masterlist, heck... But this was just something I typed up super quick while I was on my work break one day - just a quick little out of context scene that wouldn't leave me alone. 😔</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By now, everybody has simply accepted that, not unlike a roach from underneath the fridge, Evette will simply show up unannounced at the orphanage and make herself at home. Nero attributes this to Credo’s constant babysitting, but can never seem to find it in him to shoo her out whenever she drops by. She’s proven herself to be rather harmless by now, photojournalist or no. It’s just like having another kid to look after, honestly.</p><p>Today however, she sits slumped at the kitchen counter, face buried in her arms, paying no mind to the sweet smell of a several pies baking away in the oven. Normally, she’d chatter, asking question after question with no direction, no real flow in conversation, but on this bright afternoon, picturesque and idyllic, she sighs, forlorn.</p><p>And <em>keeps</em> sighing. Louder and more dramatic until, with a light roll of his eyes Nero finally picks up her obvious cues and asks her what’s wrong.</p><p>“I think I’m in love.” She announces, voice muffled by her own arms.</p><p>Nero notices that over by the oven where Credo and Kyrie are both inspecting the pies through the oven window, that the ever stoic, ever serious elder sibling goes completely rigid. Oh, he already knows exactly where this is going.</p><p>“Oh yeah?” Nero masterfully masks his playful tone, sipping casually on a glass of apple cider. He distantly thinks they should patent this stuff and ship it off to the mainland. Fortuna’s apples are a local delicacy with a unique flavour. It could mean some extra money for the island, and lord knows they could use it. He gently places the glass back down onto the counter. “Didn’t think you’d go for a country boy. Who is it?”</p><p>“You’re gonna laugh at me.” Her reply is nothing but a pathetic whine, childish, but oh so like her.</p><p>Staring into his bubbly drink, Nero fights back the smile that’s threatening to creep across his face. “What? No, I’d never. Kyrie maybe, but not me.” From across the kitchen, his girlfriend sticks her tongue out at him, but Nero simply waves it off, dipping his head to try to get a glimpse of Evette’s hidden face.</p><p>“You promise?”</p><p>“Cross my heart and hope to die.”</p><p>A blatant lie that everybody in the room is aware of.</p><p>Evette makes a noise that Nero can’t put a name or real description to. It’s something like a long, drawn out bellow of a whale, distressed and vaguely in pain, before she concedes.</p><p>“…….it’s the angel.”</p><p>And true to expectations, Nero <em>does</em> laugh. Both at the pitiful whine Evette makes, but especially at the way Credo suddenly finds a keen and unshakeable interest in a canister of flour.</p><p>“Incredible.” He breathes.</p><p>And true to expectations, Nero does laugh. Both at the pitiful whine Evette makes, but especially at the way Credo suddenly finds a keen and unshakeable interest in a canister of flour.</p><p>“Incredible.” He breathes.</p>
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